Athazagoraphobia
by NationOfWolves
Summary: "For dissolving a state is not really killing it, it's merely the act of erasing it's existence." Gilbert is disappearing. He can feel himself slipping. He knows his time is up. He doesn't know how long he has left, but he's not going down without a fight. He is, after all, the awesome Prussia. R&R!
1. Prologue

**Title: The Vanishing Act. **

**Author: G. C. Frankenstein.**

**Summary: "For dissolving a state is not really killing it, it's merely the act of erasing it's existence." Gilbert is disappearing. He can feel himself slipping. He knows his time is up. He doesn't know how long he has left, but he's not going without a fight. He is, after all, the awesome Prussia.**

**Main characters: Prussia, Germany, Hungary, Austria, Spain, France, North and South Italy, with recurring appearances of the rest.**

**AN: Hi :D Frankenstein's here~ This here is my very first Hetalia fanfic, so I'd appreciate it if you guys go all constructive on me :P no joke, be as constructive as you possibly can. You don't even have to be nice about it (no, I'm not asking you to flame- there's a difference). Title's kinda lame, so I might change it if I think of a better one... until then, enjoy the prologue! **

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From the most private, exclusive journal of Gilbert Beilschmidt, formerly known as the Kingdom of Prussia. Written on a scrap of paper stapled on the first page by the individual that gave him the journal, who also happens to be the only one that knows of its existence, worn slightly by age even with Gilbert Beilshmidt's careful handling of this particular journal, it reads:

_When a state is formed its human personification is born. Contrary to popular belief, the human personification of a state does not represent the government, but the people of the land, and like the people the personification is obliged to obey the leader. When the state is formally acknowledged by larger, more powerful states, the human personification is granted immortality. The personification then becomes immune to death, though that's not saying it's immune to pain or near death experiences. It is, after all, the _human_ personification of the state. When the state is attacked, the personification feels and endures the same amount of physical, mental and emotional pain. When the state gains more power, it shows on the personification's appearance and conduct. _

_There are only two ways that could put an end to the human personification. One is the death of the state itself, for the personification is attached to the state from birth. An example of dead states and their personifications include Ancient Rome, Ancient Greece, and Germania. Another way is the dissolution of the state. It's a rare, slow, painful end that no personification deserves to face; for dissolving a state is not really killing it, it's merely the act of erasing it's existence. It's like setting a phoenix on fire and scattering it's ashes to prevent its rebirth. However, unlike the phoenix, the personification disappears both in the physical sense and from the thoughts and memories of the other personifications or humans it encountered in life… _

First entry by Gilbert Beilschmidt, formerly known as the Kingdom of Prussia, now known as Awesome:

_ Dear diary, _

_ I am awesome! _

_ G.B. _

Second entry, written 30 minutes later:

_Dear diary, _

_ The Kingdom of Prussia has been disbanded. A few years have passed since, and I don't really feel that different, but I know it's happening. I've done enough research with some help from a very good, reliable source, and together we found that there's really no way out of this. I'm disappearing. I'm not dying. Well, I sort of am, but not in the conventional way. How lame! Anyway, it seems like I still have some time left. I don't even know when it'll happen, or how I'll know… is it like a heart attack? A stab to the gut? A pistol to the head? That would've been a better ending for the awesome Prussia. _

_A soldier's death. _

_Yea, right. It's likely to be something in the lines of this:_

_"Prussia; the one state that's born a soldier, always fighting, conquering, and getting conquered himself, occasionally by Hungary's frying pan... the one that just disappeared. The one everyone forgot." _

_ Ha, as if I'll disappear without giving everyone an awesome piece of Prussia! Starting with West, Hungary, that stupid aristocrat, France and Spain… I won't cry like some silly little girl. I am the awesome Prussia, and the awesome Prussia only cries when his awesomeness becomes too much to handle even by himself, and if it comes to that his awesome tears would be that of total awesome manliness that makes specs jealous! _

_ The guy that helped me with my research (who wants to remain anonymous.) gave me this journal to record my progress. What progress? I'm disappearing, not growing a new head! How the hell is that going to help? I could just use a calendar to count down the days I have left. But he's been very helpful, and he looked sad when we found that the process is inevitable, so I kinda owe it to him, you know? Plus he's not that bad to hang out with, almost as cool as me. _

_ So, to start off, here's my first recording of the process of the Disappearance of Awesomeness: I feel nothing. Or I feel the same as I've always felt, whatever the hell that means. I still like beer, annoying Austria, wrestling West for the remote or for the last beer in the fridge, Ita-chan's cooking, going out with the Bad Touch Trio, and it still hurts to get hit by Hungary's frying pan. Physically. Last time she gave me a black-eyed. With a fucking frying pan. _

_ So there, that's it. So far, I feel nothing. Oh, and one last thing: I'm still awesome! _

_ G.B. _

Latest entry by Gilbert Beilschmidt, unsigned and written in a messy, barely readable handwriting that's still unmistakably Gilbert Beilschmidt's, with some words roughly scratched out to the point where it actually tore the paper:

_ I don't feel so awesome anymore. I don't think I even look it. I don't know, maybe I do a little, but I'm too scared to check. _

_ I think it's happening. I think I'm actually starting to disappear. Or maybe I've started a long time ago, and that I just reached the final stage. I recorded this many times before, but this time I'm 100% sure that it's happening. Here's why: _

_This morning I woke up with a blank mind. No joke, I didn't have a single thought circling in my awesome head. You know how you always sort of wake up and have something already going on up there, something that could relate to your dream, chores, plans etc.? Well, this morning I woke up with none of that. Literally, _nothing. _It's like some asshole from my brain pressed the mute button. _

_Second, I forgot Gilbird. His presence and fearlessness of mine confused me. I couldn't understand why a bird __wouldn't fly away in terror when I touched it and then cradled it in my palms__- and that's what I thought of him; as some bird, not awesome, kickass, beer-drinking Gilbird. _

_Third, and most important; I forgot myself. I looked at my mirror, and for a second I thought it was someone else until I realised that I was staring intensely at a full-length mirror. I did not only forget my name, but I forgot my physical appearance as well. And my voice. The German accent really surprised me. _

_ Of course, since I managed to forget someone as awesome as me, it wouldn't come as a surprise to forget West. He heard all the commotion and barged in. I freaked out on him. I think I scared him a little. Hell, I'd be scared shitless if I were in his place! I'm just glad that he said my name before I could injure him, because for some reason that triggered something that brought all my memories back. And it wasn't Prussia that 'woke me up', the name of a kingdom that existed and kicked ass once-upon-a-time, it was my real, human name; Gilbert. I don't know if that has any significance whatsoever, I'm just relieved that West used it. I'm no pansy, and I know better than anyone that West can take care of himself on his own, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I hurt him. _

_ I got him to leave just a few minutes ago. He refused to at first, demanding to know why I freaked out and all, and refusing to believe a single excuse I gave him. Who the hell made him the awesome big bruder? That's my job! Or is it? Now that I think about it, he's been the big bruder for a long time, and I the freeloading, useless younger bruder… Whatever. I should be out of his hair in no time, right? Right. Except I don't want to. I want to live. _

Another entry from Gilbert Beilschmidt, written more neatly on the page following the last:

_Dear diary, _

_ I feel a little better now. Ita-chan cooked lunch, and it was awesome as usual. I had some beer with West. He's still very suspicious, but too busy with state-related crap to question me. I can tell that he's worried, but as far as I'm concerned, the show I put on for the both of them was pretty damn convincing. Ita-chan believed that I was being my normal, awesome self, anyway. Besides, West is pressured with work. He'll eventually forget if I keep it up. _

_ Yea, yea, I know what you're thinking. I should tell him. He has the right to know that his big bruder's days are numbered. But whatever, fuck your dreams! You're just a journal. I am the awesome Prussia, and I won't go down without a fight! _

_ G.B. _

One last entry by Gilbert Beilschmidt, written hours later on the same page as the last:

_ Dear diary, _

_ Who am I kidding? It's over. I tried getting in touch with the guy that helped me the first time, but I failed. Now that I think of it, I haven't really seen him around for years. I think he got caught. That moron, I knew they'd eventually catch up with him. But did they have to do it now when I needed him most?! Nevertheless,__ I don't think we'd get anywhere even with him around. We tried before and failed, remember? Why should we succeed now, anyway? It's not like technology or time had anything to do with it. Prussia's been dead since 1947. Only Gilbert Beilschmidt lives and lets face it, as awesome as he is, he's human._

_ Why do I still have time? I don't know. To try harder, maybe, or to say my goodbyes? Does it matter if I do? They'll always remember Prussia, but they'll forget Gilbert as soon as I'm out. Who are 'they', anyway? West is most definitely one of 'they'. Then there's Hungary, Austria, Spain, France, and maybe Ita-chan… yea, I think that's about it. Wow. For someone that conquered all the vital regions, I barely have any close friends. Screw that, I've always liked being alone, anyway. It's better. My disappearance won't be that big of an impact on them. It'd be easier for them to move on._

_Ha, look at me being all nice and considerate. How fun. _

_Fuck. I actually have shitload of work to do before disappearing. Did you know that the last time I really, really worked was… fuck, I can't even remember. Probably sometime in the Second World War. Yea, that's probably it. I was trying to knock some sense into Ludwig's head, and believe me, that's more work that anyone could ever ask for because Ludwig is the most stubborn out of all of us Beilschmidts! I should know. I raised him myself. _

_Anyway, I better get started. There's only so much awesomeness left. I probably won't have the time to record anything else, but… keep a heads up, anyway. I might finish soon, or be finished before I get anything done. _

_And never forget: I am awesome! _

_G.B. _

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**AN: The format in the coming chapters will change. I started with a journal-letter-type format just to give you an idea of what the fanfic's about. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed that :D I'd appreciate a review, especially if it's criticism (ESPECIALLY if it's on my writing... I'm afraid English isn't my native language.) OH, and if you're into Harry Potter, in specific Remus/Sirius, I'd strongly recommend you to check out Icarus's Dances with Wolves. We share this profile, so it's just a click away :D **

**Until next time~ **

**Frankenstein. **


	2. Chapter 1

**Concept of duality: Prussia and Gilbert, and the struggle for dominance. Please make sure to keep that in mind. It's very, **_**very **_**important. Though it won't always make its presence obvious, rest assured that it is present at all times. **

**Constructive criticism is very much needed and appreciated!**

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_My name is Gilbert Beilschmidt. _

_I was once a nation known as Prussia. _

_I have no idea how old I really am. As a matter of fact, no nation _could _know. The closest they'd get to is an estimate, and it's still wrong by a long shot. People assume that I'm 20 years old, so I just go with it. _

_My little bruder, Ludwig, is still a nation. A lot of nations don't use his real name. Only those closest to him do, like Japan, my awesome self and Italy. They just go with the nation he represents; Germany. He doesn't give a flying fuck, anyway, as long as you use either one. _

_My most awesome boss was Old Fritz. _

_Beer is great. German beer is awesome. _

_My closest companion is a small, round, yellow bird. I have no idea what kind of a bird he actually is, but I believe that he was somehow born (hatched?) with Prussia- he didn't grow any bigger, and he's been around ever since I could remember. He drinks beer, shits on people I hate, and delivers messages (they were once warnings of my awesome approaching army. Now they're just used for pranks.). He's awesome, so I called him Gilbird, and he goes wherever I go. Screw your allergies. _

_Hungary was once a boy. She thought she was, anyway. I did, too, and I was on my knees repenting in churches for hours every time I thought of- _

_I saw her boobs. It's possible that I just wanted to get laid, ok? She's a childhood friend- _

_Elizabeta was the love of my life-_

_Maybe she was just a crush- _

_When we were kids she always thought of Roderich as this pansy nation that always hid behind Switzerland whenever shit hit the fan. What makes him so manly now that he's hiding behind her? She never really- _

_Elizabeta should've remained a boy. It would've made things so much easier for the three of us- _

_Fuck this shit, I'll never really know. Let's just say that I care about Hungary the Homo, ok?_

_Oh, and Austria's her stupid ex-husband that she still sees for some reason. He's a lame aristocrat that looks at piano porn every night before going to bed, and complains when I eat his food. _

_Ita-chan is a regular at our place. I'm cool with it. He's always cooking food that suits my awesome taste, and he also agrees that I'm the ultimate definition of awesome! He makes West smile from time to time._

_Japan comes by every once in a while. West likes talking to him. They could talk about any subject for hours uninterrupted. He seems nice enough, though I don't really talk to him. _

_I am a proud member of the Bad Touch Trio. The other two are Francis and Antonio, nations better known as France and Spain. _

_Of the good things I'm proud of doing in my life as a nation was helping America gain independence. He's a good kid, but easily overwhelmed. I'm surprised he made it through, not because I thought him weak or anything, but because he was always so close to giving up. I guess going against one's bruder is easier said than done. He kept loosing his resolve, and that got me so pissed I nearly bashed his head in. Being a normal leader is hard enough, let alone an awesome one! Anyway, the kid made it through. I'm proud of the little rebel. _

_Everyone assumes I take pride in my achievements as the Kingdom of Prussia, especially under Old Fritz's rule. The truth is, I've been more proud to have vater's blood in me. That old man kicked ass throughout his life, and he died kicking even more ass! I still look up to him, even though I'm no longer a nation. It really sucks that Ludwig was young when he died. He barely remembers him. _

_I wear my old military uniform as much as I can, because despite everything that went down I take pride in my heritage. West thinks it's a sin for him to do the same, and I know that deep down he's still blaming himself for-_

_At least he's still wearing the cross, right? Right! I do, too. I'm never without it. _

_I was disbanded twice. The first was in 1918, though a lot don't even consider it an abolition, merely a 'death of monarchy'. To me it was a great fucking blow; I was made by those monarchs! Whatever, it doesn't matter now, anyway. The second, final, and official disbandment took place in 1947. West was made to sign it in his boss's place (the little shit took the easy way out) and in mine (yea, because the Allies felt too shitty about making a man sign his own death warrant, so apparently making his little bruder do it was somehow more humane). That was the first time I saw West drop on his knees and beg._

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Gilbert inspected the paper before him. His ruby eyes moved to the older two pages and scanned them. Along with this most recent piece, all three were written in the span of three days. Each paper was written in the morning, the minute the former-nation woke up, and all three were nearly identical. He always started with his name and worked his way towards disbandment, adding random bits of information in between whenever he'd remember. So far, no piece of information or event past 1947 has been added. It's not that he doesn't remember; neither he nor his brother could ever forget the Wall of Berlin that separated them, it's just that he didn't really _want _to relive those years.

Back then, Ludwig was struggling with balancing internal struggles and political external attacks all on his own, and Gilbert was disbanded and left at Russia's mercy. They were terrible memories. He hadn't come to terms with them, and now he doesn't have the time to. He'd rather not waste his last years (_months? Weeks? Days? Hours?_) lamenting them. But what of the years afterwards, when the Wall was taken down and when he was finally reunited with his brother?

He smiled. He had been relieved to see Ludwig's face healthy, flushed, and vigorous again. The last time he saw him, when they parted after his disbandment was made official, Germany was decades beyond his real age. He was the screaming, pale, gaunt figure that haunted Prussia's dreams at night. Seeing Germany back on his feet again made Gilbert forget all the years he spent under Russia's roof. Wordlessly, he had envelope Ludwig in a bone-crushing hug. He had no idea how bad he looked, but he assumed that he looked even worse than the last time Ludwig saw him, because as soon as he drew him closer Ludwig burst into tears and nearly crushed his older brother into dust from his sheer strength, apologizing over and over again and soaking the Prussian's shirt with his tears.

That particular memory was probably the clearest in his mind, but still he couldn't find a way to put it on paper.

He sighed. He folded the papers together and hid them between numerous old magazines stuffed in his second drawer. It was the safest hiding place from Ludwig's sharp eyes, mostly because said nation tries his best to avoid Gilbert's 'collection'.

He felt Gilbird moving in the nest of white hair he created on Gilbert's head, flapping his tiny wings and ruffling his feathers. He chirped a few times to inform his master that he is finally awake and in need of attention. Gilbert opened his palm and the bird flew from his head and landed right in the middle, affectionately nuzzling Gilbert's fingers as they gently closed in on him. He gave a tired smile and stroked the bird's soft feathers with his free hand.

"Guten morgen, Mini Awesome," he greeted. The bird chirped in reply. "Wanna have breakfast at Spec's? I'm starving!"

At the mention of Austria's cooking, Gilbird dashed out of Gilbert's hand and starting flying in circles around his head, chirping enthusiastically. Gilbert's smile fell. He probably shouldn't have suggested that, because he wasn't really in the mood to see anyone, least of all Austria.

He spent the last two weeks looking for his 'research partner', desperately trying to contact him, but so far he's met with either brick walls or turned backs.

_No, _he thought to himself. _That old geezer wouldn't leave me hanging. He obviously got caught! _

He needed him now more than he ever did. He doesn't even understand why he wants to try again. All their past efforts have failed, and he had long since lost all hope. The only logical answer he could think of was the fear motivating him- and the element of surprise, of course. His memory was, however momentarily, wiped out in the span of a single night's sleep. It was so sudden and random. He didn't expect it to be like that. He anticipated pain that starts out small and dull and eventually escalates to something that knocks him off his feet and renders his limps weak and useless, not… whatever the hell that was.

He waited for days for it to happen again. He even wrote his own name on his palm in case it does, but so far nothing out of the ordinary occurred. It should've been a reassuring sign telling him that it's not yet his time, that that was just some sort of a glitch that shouldn't have happened, but as mush as he'd love to believe that he just couldn't. He couldn't explain why or how, but he just _knew_ that his time is up. He actually _feels _whatever remains of it slipping through his fingers like sand. He just can't tell exactly how long he has left, or the date and time of his permanent departure.

He eventually gave up looking for his 'partner'; three days ago to be specific. He started making a record of his progress in a slightly different manner, by which he'd record everything he remembers about himself the moment he opens his eyes. So far, all his recordings match, albeit with minor differences in terms of use of profanity.

It's also a way for him to keep track of his sanity.

He wasn't going to be a sitting duck. It goes against everything he believes in, it goes against _him _as a proud Prussian. He wanted _so badly _to do something about the situation, and he thought long and hard about numerous possible solution, but nothing seemed to fit the bill. Still, his instincts, those belonging to the Kingdom or Prussia, were screaming at him to _fight back! _

He scoffed. No doubt Frederick II would've wanted that. Hell, he'd probably prevent it from happening in the first place, not just his disbandment, but the two World Wars _and _the Wall of Berlin.

_Old Fritz, if only you were alive, _he thought with longing. It wasn't the first time that particular wish crossed his mind, but never in his life since Frederick's death did Gilbert feel such longing for the old man. He _needs _Frederick's advice.

He sighed. How he came to be such a needy person, Gilbert will never know. Maybe he shouldn't fight back. Maybe he should just give up, write down a hasty to-do list, work on that list, make amends with people, plan more outings with the Bad Touch Trio, and kiss his brother goodbye. That's pretty much the reasonable thing a dead man walking would do in the closing hours of his death, and Gilbert's lucky enough to have the time for it.

Except Gilbert wasn't _any _dead man. He was the Kingdom of Prussia, once of the most powerful in Europe. He had lead armies, conquered multiple nations, and had the honor of being governed by notable historical figures. He was a natural fighter, and inwardly he was already preparing for battle.

_Fight back, damn you! _

_How? _

_Fight back! _

_For fuck's sake, tell me how! _

_Do what you always do: Fight back! _

_I can't, I'm not a nation anymore! _

_Fight back! _

_I don't have a fucking army on my command! _

_Fight back!_

_I don't have a boss, a government, or my own people! Don't you get it? I can't fight back! _

_You're the awesome Prussia, and the awesome Prussia doesn't go down without a fight! _

_That awesome Prussia was a nation. He's dead. You're talking to Gilbert Beilschmidt. _

_Gilbert Beilschmidt_ is_ Prussia, and Prussia _will_ fight back! _

_Are you fucking dense? There is no way around this, it's over! _

_There is a way: fight back! _

_How?! _

_Separate from Germany. _

_What…?!_

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**To be honest, I'm not very happy with this chapter. I rewrote it three times! Can you believe it? Three times! I'm not disappointed or anything, it's just that it lacks…well, movement. Action. Excitement. You know, the works. Then again, it IS the first chapter… Anyway, other characters will make an appearance in the second chapter, I promise! It's already planned out, I just need to write it down.**

**Also, you could probably tell that I'm not very good at third person X_X apologies, dearies! I haven't used third person in a while. Usually I just go with first, but despite how the story seems so far, it does involve a great deal of characters, and their part can't be told from Prussia's POV alone. I hate multiple POV in a single story written in first, so I decided to take the easy way out and get it all under third ^_^ I hope it works for future chapters~ **

**Finally, I'd like to thank everyone who read, reviewed, and added this story to their favorites/alerts. It means a lot, and I may not sound like it, but I really do appreciate it :D **

**Until next time, **

**Frankenstein. **


	3. Chapter 2

**Apologies for the delay ;_; it was unintentional, I swear!**

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Although the monthly meeting was being held in Zurich, Switzerland would not attend it. The neutral-yet-militant nation had sent his apologies for the inconvenience, claiming to be needed elsewhere for a security-related emergency. He implored the attending nations to proceed without him. The way Germany sees it; when it comes to security problems Switzerland _should_ miss the meeting without the need to explain or to apologize to anyone. At the end of the day they're all nations. They'd understand.

The Swiss's absence doesn't bother him much; he rarely attends those meetings, anyway. However, Germany did feel a little betrayed when he first heard the news from a random government official. With Italy causing unnecessary ruckus and America hogging the entire meeting, thus provoking England and Russia, not to mention France making everyone uncomfortable and Belarus terrorizing China for 'stealing big brother', Germany was surely meant to leave the meeting with a huge migraine. He had hoped the Swiss would help him maintain the peace, but now with him gone his greatest hope was Japan, which really wasn't saying much considering the nation's quiet, timid nature.

When bad things take a turn for the worst, Germany often finds himself wondering what it'd be like to be more laid back and uncaring, a little like Italy, or at least lenient enough to miss one single monthly world meeting. He'd love to miss _this _fast approaching one in particular, but his nature forbids it more so than his own boss. A job needs to be done, and this was his.

On the bright side, Prussia was tagging along to take him out drinking afterwards. While he has to work the next morning, Germany could still use a pint of good German beer to calm his would-be wrecked nerves.

Then again, Prussia was another issue occupying his mind.

Gilbert hadn't been himself lately. Sure, whenever he catches Ludwig staring he'd grin, yell obscenities, and make ungodly suggestions that'd turn Ludwig's hair white faster than the speed of light. But before he starts feeling Ludwig's eyes observing him from the shadows, he'd be an entirely different man than the older brother he's known all his life.

He wasn't entirely sure at first, for he had blamed it on a flu or a fever or whatever illness the approaching winter brings, but after a long while of observing his brother's sudden change in habit and mannerism, Ludwig is a hundred percent sure that whatever's afflicted his brother is a lot greater than a silly winter illness. Nations don't get sick, anyway. He just can't decide what _it _actually is. All he has at his disposal is a mental list concocted during his observations. Of the first things he noticed was the change in Gilbert's appetite, or lack of. He doesn't eat properly. Sometimes he misses meals, and his bird would get so hungry that he would actually venture out of his master's line of view (which was, until then, unheard of.) in search of Germany. He'd land on his shoulder and chirp and peck at his ears, begging desperately to be fed.

Another thing he noticed was the change in his sleeping pattern. Rather, he doesn't sleep to begin with. Ludwig doesn't even remember the last time he heard Gilbert's loud snores penetrating the walls of his house, though he does hear him moving from his room in the basement to the kitchen, swearing under his breath and looking through the cupboards for a glass and then the fridge for milk. Sometimes he'd hear him switching on their television and flipping through channels for a few hours, and when Ludwig finally comes down for his morning workouts he'd find his big brother passed out on the couch, with the TV still on and an empty milk carton lying somewhere next to him.

Of the first that alarmed Ludwig was Gilbert isolating himself. As far as Ludwig knows, Gilbert hadn't been in contact with Spain or France in a little over a week, and he hadn't ventured into Austria's house nor was he heard complaining about Hungary. To put it simply, he hadn't been out of his own room. When Ludwig checked on him he found him scribbling on papers, but he never got close enough to read whatever was being written. For starters, Gilbert hardly wrote anything, and if he did he wouldn't stress over it as much as he currently is. Second, he's easily bored, and isolation doesn't entertain him. He takes pleasure in teasing nations, in getting strong emotions and reactions out of them, and although it got him beaten up many times in the past, he still somehow found a way to walk it off and start again in less than twenty-four hours.

He thought he'd be happy the day Gilbert stops trying to turn nations into ticking bombs, but what he felt was nothing close to happiness or tranquility. It was so very unlike him that Ludwig was concerned enough to be tempted into getting Hungary involved.

He thought he was being paranoid at first, but now he's certain that Gilbert is avoiding him. Or he's trying to, anyway. Whenever he'd find himself finished early with work he'd look to confront Gilbert, only to be met with a string of excuses. Sometimes Gilbert would go as far as pretending to be asleep or in the middle of a phone call, and when Ludwig's patience finally runs its course and he makes his older brother look into his eyes, Gilbert's would instantly become panicked for the briefest of seconds, and then darkened by something heavy and sorrowful.

But he can't be feeling guilty; Ludwig tried reasoning with himself later in his office. He hasn't done anything. Even if he had, there's no reason for him to hide it from Germany. In the past he's done things that drove Germany to his limits, but still that didn't stop him from cackling loudly and slapping Germany on his shoulders.

Lastly, there was something very wrong with the way Gilbert smiled. Ludwig can't explain it, but whenever he asks and Gilbert waves off his concerns with that signature grin of his, alarm bells would go off in Ludwig's head, except they weren't the type that warned him of his brother possibly planning on wrecking havoc for the 'fun' of it, and that he should be on guard. They were more like warnings of an anomaly, or a missing factor that should be there but isn't, a piece that he should find and put back immediately.

They were minutes away from the designated building. The weather was cool and crisp, and Ludwig suggested they walk the rest of they way, thinking that he might be able to get something out of Gilbert before the meeting when it's just the two of them without bartenders or drivers or other nations listening in on them. To his surprise, Gilbert agreed, only complaining a little about the distance and the cold. Just as Ludwig thought that he had him cornered, Italy ran into them as soon as they left the car and the driver paces behind. He practically latched himself onto Germany, and as much as Ludwig tried to pry him off, the Italian wouldn't budge or even get the hint. He babbled on and on about food and pretty girls, and before he knew it, Gilbert joined him and all was lost. The albino eventually quieted down and back into the dark, private chambers of his own musings, leaving the command with Italy.

Ludwig barely listened to Feliciano. He hadn't meant to ignore him. He did nod when necessary, and he asked a question or two, but he wasn't able to keep his eyes from looking over Feliciano's head and onto Gilbert. His brother was walking with his back straight, hands in his pockets; Gilbird perched on his head, and face plain of emotions. He was staring ahead and being uncharacteristically, eerily quiet.

Ludwig doesn't have faith in the supernatural, despite him being an immortal human personification of a nation, but he very briefly considered the possibility of Gilbert being possessed.

He stopped abruptly when they reached the oak double doors leading to the conference hall. Gilbert stood still next to him. Feliciano walked ahead into the room, chattering gleefully still, only to poke his head out a few seconds later when he realized that he was missing his favorite German.

"Germany~!" he sang loudly, despite said nation being merely an arm's length away. "The meeting's about to start!"

Ludwig ignored him. He turned to Prussia. "Bruder."

He then realized that Gilbert wasn't really staring at him. He had been searching for something- or someone? –In the conference room with his eyes through the small opening made by Italy's frame holding the door open. He only looked at him when Ludwig called for his attention.

"Bruder," he repeated. "You know you're not allowed in those meetings."

He really hated to be the one to remind him of the fact that he's no longer a nation. But Prussia never really seemed to care. As far as Germany could tell, Gilbert was enjoying life as much as one possibly could. He was always out partying or clubbing, getting drunk, freeloading off of two nations, and making people angry for the fun of it. Nevertheless, it felt too wrong and disrespectful.

And as always, Gilbert didn't look the slightest bit offended, despite Ludwig's evident discomfort.

He snorted. "Why the hell would I want to be in one, anyway? Those are boring as fuck." He nodded towards the lobby. "I'll be there if you need me. Knock 'em dead, West~" He then walked towards the place, muttering to himself: "…Swiss beer better taste good…otherwise I'm finding other ways to entertain myself..."

Ludwig shuddered. Whatever happens with Gilbert, he just hopes he could afford to pay for the compensations. It's not like he had financial issues, it's just that with Gilbert you can never be too optimistic…

"Ciao!" Italy waved cheerfully after Prussia's retreating form. "See you after the meeting!" Gilbert waved once without turning back. Feliciano turned back to Ludwig, smiling and holding the door open. "Are you coming, Germany?"

Ludwig hesitated, still staring at his brother's back. Should he march over and confront him…?

He shook his head. "J-ja," he said, quickly following Italy in.

* * *

Gilbert was the kind of person that couldn't be still for too long. He was easily bored. He'd prefer to move around and _do _things rather than sit somewhere and have long, tedious or even meaningful conversations. This aspect of his personality prevented him from attending meetings back when he was a nation. But it's not like he was needed, anyway. Back then personifications rarely had meetings with each other. Things were dealt with differently using either swords or gunpowder or tanks, depending on the century, but words were very rarely used between personifications. Unless if they were related by blood, that is.

Gilbert smirked. He's well over (possibly) a couple of thousand years old and still he failed to notice how times have changed so quickly. Then again, Gilbert had always been a child at heart, and children don't pay attention to time because they have all of it to themselves.

If it had been any other day he would've left hours ago. His boredom almost got the better of him many times during those hours, but he kept himself seated on the leather sofa with the constant reminder of the fact that he _needed _to wait for them. It had taken all kinds of pleadings to get one to see him, some so very condescending that he felt too ashamed to remember, and he'd be damned to let this opportunity slip.

He was very tempted into getting a drink from the bar to calm his nerves, but he knew himself well enough. He'd get himself drunk and embarrass one sister and get the other dangerously pissed, thus ending his own life and that of his brother's economy that will likely pay for whatever damage they'd both cause.

He rolled his eyes. Like he wasn't dying already…or possibly hurting Germany with the few options he's considering.

_Fuck that, _He thought._ I'm the awesome Prussia! I'll find another way. _

_Doesn't matter, you're still betraying him. _

He ordered another glass of ice-cold water. It had none of the magical effects alcohol did, but it was cool and refreshing enough to distract him, however briefly.

Truth be told, he had never really spoken to Belarus, even though he lived under her brother's roof for many years. They crossed paths then, as they often did now, but neither one of the two seemed to notice or care about the other's existence. He'd probably really like her if she smiled or laughed more often, but the fleeting looks she very rarely sends his way whenever he's loud and obnoxious enough to unintentionally attract her attention pretty much summarized her feelings towards him: disgust, with a hint of the usual hatred she saves for any nation that attracts her brother's attention for more than thirty seconds.

In short, she freaked him out. For the most part, he kept himself out of her way as much as he possibly could. That's not saying he wants to intersect her path _now_, though. He's just desperate, and it's not like he's presented with many options in the first place! The Baltic States are too cowardly and predictable, they'd probably quake in fear and tell him that there is no way, advise and beg him to reconsider, and eventually report him to Germany as a 'slip of the tongue'. And there was no way in hell he'd even consider Russia, even if he were reduced to the most pitiful state of being. So that leaves him with Belarus and Ukraine.

Scary, temperamental, obsessive, and violent Belarus that probably hates anything German and sweet, naïve Ukraine that's known to make men blush crimson and make complete and utter fools out of themselves.

Still, he needs them both. They were there when he fell.

The double doors of the meeting burst open. Russia was the first nation out, looking confident from a distance but being brutally betrayed by his panicked expression. If it had been any other situation, Prussia would've dissolved into fits of laughter at how fast he had left the building.

Other nations were starting to pile out. He steeled himself, sparing a second of gratitude for Ludwig always having this strange habit of being the last person out of every single meeting. He took a deep breath and stood up straight.

Belarus finally emerged from the room. She glanced around, making the smaller and weaker nations scramble away whenever her eyes landed on them. He smirked when their eyes met, and she narrowed hers. Ukraine came out soon afterwards, for once without Canada, looking very nervously between her sister and the fallen nation. She followed Belarus with her head bowed slightly as they brushed past him and past the bar and into a hallway leading towards several busy offices. He counted to ten before following them.

He didn't realize they had taken him to Switzerland's office until he read the name _Basch Zwingli _on the (very neat) desk.

"You know this guy collects guns instead of cats, right?" he asked as he traced his fingers over the printed letters.

Ukraine squirmed in her seat. "Maybe we should find another room. This is technically breaking and entering…"

"He's not here." Belarus sat on the sofa facing Ukraine, crossing her legs and folding her hands on her lap. She was the exact polar opposite of her nervous, doe-eyed sister. Of course, that's not saying that she's reckless and irrational. Gilbert would be an idiot to assume that she's stupid or arrogant enough to underestimate Basch's lack of tolerance for any law breaking act, precisely that of the breaking and entering of his or his sister's or his boss's private property, and yet she sat so comfortably on the sofa as if she was expected to be there. "And I'm not afraid of him."

"You've got nerve, Blondie." He turned and leaned against the desk, smirking down at her. "West himself would think twice before breaching any limits with Switzerland."

She glared up at him. "Syestra and I are here. Big brother and Germany are not. You said it's an emergency-" he opened his mouth to cut her off, but she beat him to it. "-I don't believe you."

"Fucking hell, are you still pissed about my moving in with Russia? I didn't want that as much as you did. If anything, I fucking hated every minute of it."

"I don't trust you."

"But you agreed to meet me."

"Because you would not leave me alone!" She snapped, making both Gilbert and Ukraine jump. "Now tell me what you want. You have two minuets."

"C'mon, Blondie, I'll need more than that-"

"One minuet, thirty seconds."

He opened his mouth to counterattack. She folded her arms over her chest and raised a pale, challenging eyebrow. This is her one and only offer.

"Fine." He sighed and combed his fingers through his hair. "I'll narrow it all down to a question- and remember; this conversation stays _in _this office."

"What are you implying?" She half-growled, looking very offended by the notion.

"Nothing, I- fuck this, I'm short on time."

"You are," she agreed, glancing at the clock nailed to the wall. "You have one minuet."

"Shit," he cursed under his breath. "Ok, so the Soviet Union-" he noticed her instantly stiffening. Ukraine, who had been quietly staring back and forth between the two of them, looked down at her lap. "-How exactly did it collapse into fifteen independent states?"

She stood up. "You distracted me from big brother to ask me about something you could find in a history book?"

He shook his head. "That's not-"

She jabbed an accusing finger towards him. "_You _of all people know how it all fell apart and how big brother and I were separated. You were there. You symbolized it by having your people literally tear down that wall-"

"I did that to be with West!" The words spilled so automatically out of his mouth that he wasn't even ashamed of saying them in reaction to her accusations. "Admit it, Blondie, you would've done more than symbolizing shit if you were in my place. Remember that you too are technically separated from your bruder, but you're still seeing each other. I didn't even hear a word from West until that fucking wall came down, and until then I gave zero fucks about the Soviet Union." He paused. "You can't put the blame on me this time, Blondie. You know damn well that the only person you could _really _blame is that monster you call _big brother._"

During his stay with Russia, and afterwards, Gilbert learned that sometimes things just don't fade with time. His memory is slightly blurred from all the pain and blood, but he does remember Ukraine crying for Russia to stop. Sometimes Lithuania and Poland would muster up the courage to try to pry him off when Gilbert's blood hits the ground, despite him having had his past disputes with those two nations. Estonia and Latvia would stare apologetically from a distance, being held back only by their fear of Russia, and on the rare occasions that his rage makes him leave the manor would they tend to Prussia's wounds.

Belarus would just stand and watch. Sometimes he'd catch her smiling and actually attempt to comfort Russia with soothing words once his anger was spent and Gilbert made into a pile of shattered hopes and broken bones. One time he could've sworn he heard her whispering in his ear when everyone left the scene, telling him in her innocent, girl-like voice that he deserved that and more for 'hurting' Russia by trying to escape.

He knows that nothing he says will ever appeal to her. If anything, it'll anger her, regardless of him relating his issue with Germany to her extreme attachment to Russia. But there's still hope that she will in some indirect, probably unintentional way, and if she doesn't…

He looked at Ukraine as he spoke. Her eyes were hidden behind her bangs. "This is not making any sense _now_, but it's really important that I know. How did you separate from Russia?"

"You're wasting our time!" He heard Belarus hissing. He kept his eyes on Ukraine, waiting for her to answer, but the busty nation merely toyed nervously with her fingers and kept her eyes focused on the ground, completely avoiding his. "_Everyone _knows how the Soviet Union collapsed. You're just too lazy to do your research."

She's right. Belarus wasn't the kind of woman that would speak facts so confidently without first being certain that they are, in fact, _facts. _The fall of the Soviet Union is being taught in schools, and more densely in universities all over the world, he'd have to be deprived in the mental sense to not know at least the basics. And he _did _know, he _witnessed _it fall before his eyes.

He really was going through all of this for Ludwig's sake. It may not look like it, and he may never be able to prove it, but it really was the case. He vowed to fight back, just not in a way that will hurt Germany. They won't- _can't. Shouldn't._ -be distant or estranged in twenty or fifty years, as are many nations that had siblings. He just can't allow it. It's like growing your own tree, watching it grow and produce the juiciest, ripest peaches and then setting it on fire.

The former Soviets aren't exactly what he'd call 'family', but they were the best he could find on such short notice. They're separated, but they still seem to be connected in a way that he can't exactly name on his own.

Ukraine's discomfort was getting more and more visible. He really hated making _her _of all nations uncomfortable; sweet, kind Ukraine that has a heart big enough for the entire world, however fragile it is to handle the madness that accompanies it. He hates being the bad guy. And he's not; deep down, under all that alcohol and narcissism lies a very embarrassed, desperate man.

She shivered. He looked back up at Belarus. "It's just a question, Blondie."

She narrowed her eyes and clenched her fists. "Why should I help you?"

"Why shouldn't you? I took a bullet for you. Do you remember?"

"I didn't ask you to! Big brother wouldn't have-"

"I think you and I both know that he would have."

"_You don't know big brother-!" _

"You owe me, Blondie."

Belarus pressed her lips into a thin line and swallowed the stream of insults she was about to fire at him. Ever since he mentioned Russia, her fingers were itching for a dagger to jab into his ribs. It took such a great deal of self-control to keep her from doing that that it'd make Ivan proud, if he was present and seated in the center of her thoughts. She didn't hold back because she cared, mind you. She just knows that Germany is nothing like Lithuania. Neither he nor his boss or hers would appreciate her stabbing his older brother.

What truly set her temper off was not his smug smile, the victory glint in his red eyes, or the confident, arrogant pose that a _dissolved _nation has no right to possess. It's him being right about her debt towards him, from when she slipped and unknowingly allowed a member of the mafia access into sensitive, top-secret information that could've brought the entire country to ruins in less than a fortnight. Although the culprit was 'dealt with' on time, Russia remained livid. He shouted orders and demanded an explanation from all the residents of his house, his sisters included. Prussia then took a step forward and confessed to a crime he didn't commit, shocking all the Soviet states, in particular Belarus that was too speechless to step forward. She doesn't know when or how he found out, or why he took the blame and the severe punishment that nearly killed him instead of ratting her out for all the times she taunted him, but she felt the weight of her debt hours before he winked at her from across the room as Lithuania hoisted his arm over his shoulders and dragged him out of the room.

She sat back down on the sofa. "Whatever answer I give you now, will it pay my debt?"

He nodded. "But I don't want whatever's in history books. I want the real thing."

She scoffed. "What real thing? There is no 'real thing'. You wasted your time, and the debt I owed you. It is exactly as the history books say; too many severe economic crises following each other because of some ridiculous arms race with America."

"And the Russian Revolution?"

She shrugged. "A lot of historians say that it lead to the collapse."

He paused. "I said I don't care about history books. What do _you _say?"

He could've sworn that, for a very brief moment, she looked incredibly sad. "I say it could've been fixed, if the right decisions were taken."

For some reason, he felt like he had no right to push her any further. While it's true that he felt little to no sympathy for Belarus, he felt a great deal of it to Ukraine, whom he noticed was blinking away tears as Belarus spoke.

"So, all it really took was a failed economy," he deadpanned after a lengthy moment of silence.

"Amongst other things."

"But this was the greatest blow."

"I suppose," she sighed, standing up and dusting off her apron. "Is that all?"

He nodded. He had many things planned to retrieve from her, but now he's certain that nothing she'll ever say afterwards will make this any bit easier. If anything, he was better off not consulting them and continue living in a dream of limitless options that wouldn't get narrowed down so quickly into that one option.

"Good. My debt is paid." She glared her usual hostile glare. "If you ever speak to me again, I will cut your tongue and make you eat it raw. Understand?"

He nodded, still with a blank expression plastered on his face. He thought he whispered a 'thank you', but he isn't sure. He probably didn't even hear her as well as he'd though, but she could care less if he did. Besides, it'd give her an excuse to terrorize him should he approach her again.

He felt his entire body getting numb. Only when Belarus left did Prussia lean against Switzerland's desk for support. He closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and let out a breath that shook more than he'd care to admit.

This is the first time he's ever felt this helpless. He may have looked like he did back in 1947, but he was really more tired and spent from the war. He absolutely _hates _it, this disgusting emotion that's cornering him and giving him a hard shove towards a reality he isn't ready to face and a choice he isn't willing to make.

"Prussia?"

He nearly jumped at her soft voice. He then mentally cursed himself for forgetting that she was still in the room, now looking at him with wide, teary and concerned eyes.

She gave her his half-smile. "Woke up early to get here. West is not even a morning person, he's the type that wakes _before _morning."

She studied him for a long time. "Why would you ask about the collapse?"

He suddenly realized that he _might _have underestimated her, which caused him to panic and almost loose his smile. "Didn't I tell you? I'm writing a blog. It's awesome. You should check it out."

* * *

**Again, just a buttload of tension and a tiny bit of progress :D but it's lengthy, so that's good, yes? Pretty please ;_; **

**OH, on another note (eh, wouldn't call it a 'note'. Feels more like a rant, to be honest. Yes, you may skip):**

** I actually really like Russia. He's one of my favourite characters, and I normally wouldn't be attracted to the type of fanfics that portray him as vile, uncivilized, and plain evil. Despite what I've made of his character so far, I'm NOT making him some sort of an evil, bloodthirsty character that's always on the hunt for potential victims, because that is not who he is, at least not in cannon. And I do understand that he's not entirely innocent either. Just Keep in mind that this story is being told (mostly) from Prussia's POV, and his and Russia's relationship hadn't always been what you'd call 'friendly', not even after his dissolution or when Germany's relationship with the world was gradually stabilized. In other words, since it's Prussia speaking, Russia will naturally be portrayed as ruthless, sadistic, and unforgiving. **

**Think about it; would you think so fondly of someone you absolutely **_**loath**_**? **

**And this is where the rant ends :P thanks again for stopping by! I'll try to be less lazy and update more, but I can't make any promises yet. Sorry! **

**Until then,**

**Frankenstein. **


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